Forewarned is Forearmed
by AllegoriesInMediasRes
Summary: July 1527. Katherine of Aragon must remain strong, now that her husband is fighting to annul their marriage. Yet a single Latin phrase spoken by her daughter has the power to throw her into such disarray. Oneshot, no pairings. Canon and historically accurate.


**July 1527**

Sitting in the parlor of Ludlow Castle, a fire crackling merrily in the grate, Mary comfortably ensconced into her side, and a Latin primer spread out across their laps, it was almost easy for Katherine, Queen of England, to forget her fears and relax. She really ought to relax; she was able to visit Mary only every few months, and she did not want to spend the precious few hours they had together fretting. But she could not let go; she had not survived young widowhood, years of poverty, a dowry row, queenship, the Battle of Flodden Field, six lost children, mistresses and bastards, and now the possibility of an annulment by letting down her guard. Fear had kept her alive, and she found she could not shake it off now no more than she could have stepped out of her own skin.

Mary was eager to show off the progress she had made in Latin since her mother's last visit, and Katherine was randomly picking Latin phrases from here and there in the primer, reading them aloud and seeing if Mary could translate them. Mary's prowess in Latin was impressive for a child of eleven years, and her voice was clear and confident as she recited the perfect English equivalent back to her mother for every phrase. Katherine tried to lose herself in her pride that her daughter was such an excellent scholar, but even as she praised her daughter, she couldn't help but think if Henry had his way, Mary would never be able to put any of it to good use. Her precious daughter, the only child God had seen fit not to take away, her sweet, precocious child, would be thrown away like a used rag, all of her talent and hard work gone to waste. And Henry was willing to allow such a travesty to happen, simply because the latest chit to catch his eye was not content to be his mistress.

Oh, he hadn't mentioned the Boleyn girl's name during that horrible conversation a few weeks earlier during which he told her that he believed that their marriage had been based on a lie. But her specter had hung between them nevertheless, unmentioned but present all the same. For all that Henry blathered about his conscience and legalities and loopholes and Leviticus, Katherine knew perfectly well it was because of Anne Boleyn that Mary's place as Princess of England was now in jeopardy. And simply because his latest whore was more ambitious than any of his previous mistresses, Henry was willing to cast Mary aside.

And so would most of England, Katherine thought gloomily. The English people dearly loved their Princess Mary, but if Henry wished to bastardize her, few would be willing to defy their lawful king for the sake of a female. Katherine would have to seek help from outside England, if she wanted allies. Scholars on the Continent, in Rome, who would study the matter and deliver God's truth, not just what Henry wanted to hear. Her nephew, the Holy Roman Emperor, would be willing to help as well; he might have broken his engagement to Mary, but he was a staunch Catholic and would not stand idly by as his aunt and cousin were so gravely dishonored. Katherine would have to be circumspect about whom she asked to deliver her letters, as she knew the Cardinal had an impressive network of spies. Every person who might be sympathetic or willing to lend a hand, Katherine would call upon them. If this was to become a battle, she would fight as hard as and with as much skill as her mother Isabella had. No one tried to remove the Queen of England without-

"Mama?"

"Hmm?" Katherine was pulled out of her musings abruptly by Mary's questioning voice.

"Mama, I repeated myself three times and still you didn't tell me whether I was correct. Is it because I was wrong?"

Katherine mentally berated herself for allowing her inner turmoil to distract her to the point that Mary noticed it. "No, no, _mi cielo_. I was simply not paying attention. Forgive me."

"Of course, Mama," Mary smiled. "But would you tell me if I was correct?"

"What was it that you said again?"

Mary gave a dramatic, drawn-out sigh of exasperation, one that drew a disapproving look from her governess, Lady Salisbury, who was sitting nearby, but a smile from her mother. Mary could be so grown up at times yet still so childish. "You asked me what _praemonitus, praemunitus_ means. I told you it was 'Forewarned is forearmed.'"

Katherine felt a sudden chill crawl up her arms, despite the fire. Perhaps it was the northern climate; Wales was never truly warm, even in the peak of summer. Perhaps it was the ghosts of what had happened here at Ludlow during Katherine's first stay here, during her first brief marriage to Prince Arthur…. the one that had ended in such tragedy, the one that Henry was now claiming nagged at his conscience so much he was willing to erase their twenty years of marriage and discard Mary.

 _Forewarned is forearmed._

A thought seized her suddenly; ought she to warn Mary about what lay in store for the future? It was possible that Henry would come to his senses and this liaison would blow over, as had all of his other affairs in the end, but it was also quite possible that he might actually move ahead with his case for an annulment. In which case, Mary would have to be made aware of the situation, so that she might be able to defend herself.

Should Katherine tell Mary now? Henry had not made any legal moves yet to set the annulment into motion, but that did not mean she had to wait to break the news to her. Forewarned is forearmed after all, and the earlier Mary knew, the better off she would be.

But as Katherine turned to Mary, she discovered she couldn't find the words to explain. Her tongue was heavy and her throat closed up.

What was wrong with her? She was Queen of England, for goodness' sake! She had faced far more terrifying opponents and far more difficult conversations than a simple explanation to her own child, yet perhaps this was the most difficult matter she had ever had to explain.

How did she explain to an eleven-year-old princess that her father now believed that her mother had never been properly married to him at all, seven years before she was even born?

How did she explain that her father wanted her mother to retreat into a nunnery so that he might take a new wife, a woman he would consider his first "proper" wife?

How could she explain that her beloved papa, the man who had carried her on her shoulders and called her the pearl of his world, valued her so little he was willing to deprive her of her rights so that he might confer them upon the bastard children that would replace Mary in his affection?

How could she explain that her father, whom Mary had always adored and worshipped, was such a slave to his lusts that he was willing to twist canonical law and God's word to meet his own conclusions, to accuse his wife of being a liar and a whore, and retroactively declare his daughter to have been conceived in incest?

How could she tell Mary that the fine marriage she had always expected, whether to the Emperor or to a prince of Portugal or Spain or, God forbid, even France (Katherine thought with grim amusement that now, she would prefer Mary to marry into France rather than into whatever backwater barony Henry would pluck up for her), might not happen?

How could she explain to Mary that the Latin she studied so dutifully, the fine intellect and education she took pride in, might soon be useless?

How could she explain to Mary, who had been brought up believing herself to be Princess of Wales and the heir to the English throne, that her life was a lie?

How could she tell Mary that the days of her childhood were numbered?

How could she do it?

Mary might be wise beyond her years, but at heart, she was still a child, with a child's hope and a child's faith that the world was good and that justice was always served, and that she could rely on her parents to do the right thing. Mary would not be able to understand the horrors slowly but surely descending upon her life. Such a revelation would destroy Mary's innate trust in the world around her and place the anxieties of an adult upon her little shoulders. And what could Mary do, anyway? She was still just a child, with no way to change the situation around her. As well as that, Katherine refused to put Mary at odds with her father, not when Mary's place in her father's favor was already quite tenuous and she could not afford to anger him any further.

No, Katherine could not- would not- place such a burden upon her young daughter. The truth could wait for another day, perhaps if the situation became more serious and Mary's need to be aware of the dangers around her outweighed her need to remain in blissful ignorance. For now, Katherine could not destroy the innocence in her daughter's eyes. Not when the mood was so cozy, and Mary's eyes so questioning, and there was a fire crackling away. For today, Katherine simply wanted to enjoy her time with her daughter, instead of thinking about how limited it might be.

Katherine plastered on a smile for her daughter's sake. "Very good, _mi cielo_. Forewarned is forearmed, that is indeed right."

Mary smiled back, a smile that was so open and uncomplicated, so full of scholarly pride yet childish innocence as well, and Katherine felt her heart twist. How many smiles like this would be there after-

But Katherine stopped her thoughts firmly there. Perhaps another day, but for today, Katherine simply wanted to read phrases out of a primer, with her daughter snuggled up into her side, and see her undisguised glee at her progress in Latin.

A day would come when Mary had to leave her childhood behind, but that day did not have to be today.

Forewarned might be forearmed, but Katherine could put off that day a little longer.

How much longer, though?

* * *

 **A/N:** Henry did indeed break the news to Katherine that he considered their marriage unlawful and that he wanted an annulment in June of 1527, a few weeks before this story takes place. It is unclear precisely when Mary was made aware of the same news, but she seems to have been kept in the dark for at least a couple more years, before the dispute between her parents became too bitter for her to remain out of it.

Mary's impressive mastery of Latin around this time is also grounded in history, and at age twelve, she published a translation of St. Thomas Aquinas's prayer from Latin to English.


End file.
